


Time to Dance

by Acrylicdemon



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acrylicdemon/pseuds/Acrylicdemon
Summary: His eyes dance around the room. “You know females aren’t my area, Ms. Adler; but judging from the way you filed Ms. Jackson’s number they’re exactly yours.”Irene cocks an eyebrow as she locks her office door. “You, however, have known that for quite a while.” She taps her foot impatiently on the hard floor. “Now, are you coming or what?”“I’ll take the window,” he murmurs.She rolls her eyes. “Lock it behind you.”After closing the door, she yells a, “Good night Mr. Holmes!” and continues to lock up the rest of the building.





	

The first time Irene meets her, she’s waiting on a very late Jim Moriarty.

She stands straight, looking around nervously and exhibits the tendency of checking her wrist watch periodically. After ten minutes she takes off her coat and folds it over her arm.

Irene almost rolled her eyes. Before, it was a blonde. Before the blonde, it was a fiery-haired beauty. It was a new girl every week, it seemed, even after they had come to the United States to, as her boss put it, “expand and collect.”

The only collecting he’s done so far is prized robust beauties he finds God only knows where. This time, the girl is no standard definition of beauty. She’s simple and clean, at least.

After another five minutes the mouse-haired girl begins looking rather weary. Sighing, she stands up and walks over to her office door.

‘Well,’ Irene thinks, ‘she could be worse.’

“Hello?” Irene calls out. The girl swivels around towards the voice. “Yes, my dear; you! Come here, please!”

The girl walks towards the opened door to Irene’s office.

“Ma’am?” she questions.

Irene grins. “Ah, come off the ma’am title, I’m barely older than you are.” After a pause she adds, “You are…?”

“Oh!” she gasps, then giggles. “Sorry, my name is Molly Hooper. I’m waiting for Jim Moriarty?”

Irene nods. When Molly holds out her hand, Irene accepts it with a smile.

“Well, I’m Irene Adler. Mr. Moriarty should be back in two hours. He…”

…is out finishing up his latest Dear Jim case; so as he had remarked….

“…got tied up in a conference. Last minute, very important, you know how it goes….”

The girl, Molly, bites her lip. “I suppose I can wait a bit.”

Irene glances down at her hands, which she’s wringing nervously.

“I know two hours is quite a lengthy amount of time, but if you wish you may spend it in my office,” Irene suggests, motioning to the two chairs that sit in front of her desk.

“Well,” Molly replies cautiously. “I guess I must, then,” she finishes as she sets her belongings in one chair and her body in the other.

Irene sits back in her desk chair. “So, Ms. Hooper, what brings you to the Americas?”

That conversation starter carries a long way. Molly begins to describe her flatmates; she even begins to explain her explanations in a mess of jibberish.

“Well, you see,” she begins, “my flatmates and I, that is, Sherlock, John and I- not that it matters!” she waves her hands. “We’re all friends, not- oh, you get the point. We’ve come here from London for a new life. Plus, Sherlock ran out of cases and was driving us positively bonkers with his raving. Oh, but-“

Irene bites her cheek to hold back the amused smile that threatens to appear.

“Boy, I bet your professors loved grading your essays,” Irene says in an astonishment, her eyes widening comically the more Molly goes on. The look on her face is a mixture of amusement and fascination, she’s sure.

She blushes lightly. “It is a bit of a problem,” she murmurs.

“You mentioned your flatmate’s name was Sherlock?” She allows herself to look perplexed for a minute. “I’ve never heard a name like that before!”

Sherlock Holmes, the cleverest man in all of England, was this lady’s flatmate. Surprises did come in the oddest places, it seemed.

He also happened to be the consulting detective after her boss.

Irene faintly registers her going on about customs and the hospital she’s currently working at.

“St. Bart’s- I swear I’m throwing Sherlock out of the morgue every five seconds!- it’s quite nice, actually, I met Jim down in I.T.-“

Irene does most of her paperwork while Molly gabbers on and on about her life, asking an occasional question so she knows she’s listening. After the two hours, as promised, she sees the red light flash on the landline, letting her know Jim made it back safely.

“Darling, Jim should be back any minute now, he’s just parked. Should I run down and let him know you’re still here?”

Molly looks surprised. “Oh, no! You don’t have to do that, I’ll just surprise him,” she assures. Irene smiles coyly and signs her name on the last document.

The echoing sound of footsteps reaches the office.

Irene closes the folder and puts it back into the filing cabinet, pulling another out as she does. Jim walks past the office shouting a, “Irene, you should get home before you pass out.”

“James, you have a guest! Ms. Molly Hooper, here to see you two hours ago!” Irene yells back.

The tinkering that had been coming from his office ceased almost immediately. The footsteps began to head back towards Irene’s office.

“Hi,” Molly greets, waving slightly.

Jim grins. “Hey, sugar.” He walks over and kisses the top of her head. “Did you wait here the whole entire time?” he asks, his voice going gentle.

“Not like she was alone, dearest,” Irene mutters. Jim shoots her a murderous glance. Irene ignores him and keeps talking. “Good thing we’re in the city that never sleeps. If you wanted to take Molly out, I’ll close up for you.”

A genuine grin appears on his face. “Thank you, Irene!” The two begin to head out.

Irene rolls her eyes. “Don’t mention it,” she sighs as the door closes behind the couple.

“Well, aren’t they a cute couple, Ms. Adler?” a voice says from behind her.

“Mr. Holmes,” she greets coolly. “I give it a week. Possibly a week and a half.”

“Five days,” Sherlock counters. A small smile worms its way onto her lips.

“One for every letter in her name.” She sets back to work filing the folders back into the cabinets. “So, what do you need this time, Holmes?”

He shrugs. “Just making sure she’s all right, and that she stays all right.”

Irene notices the bandage wrapping around his wrists.

“I believe the question is, are you all right, Mr. Holmes?”

He sits down lightly across from her in the chair Molly’s coat had recently vacated. “Nothing a little time, care, and nicotine can’t cure.”

She sighs. “I thought you’d given up your old nicotine habits?”

“My dear Irene, you couldn’t think I meant for good, did you?”

Standing up swiftly, Irene makes her way to the office door. “Your promises remain as well kept as Jim’s relationships.” She flicks the lights off after a short pause. “Ready to lock up, my dear?”

Large hands snake around to grip her waist. “Tell me, my dear,” he mocks, “how desperate have you become since you left your job as a dominatrix?”

She exhales softly as she leans against his warm, slender frame. “Anytime for you, lovely,” she whispers before gently pulling away. “Not now, of course, still have to lock up and all that.”

His eyes dance around the room. “You know females aren’t my area, Ms. Adler; but judging from the way you filed Ms. Jackson’s number they’re exactly yours.”

Irene cocks an eyebrow as she locks her office door. “You, however, have known that for quite a while.” She taps her foot impatiently on the hard floor. “Now, are you coming or what?”

“I’ll take the window,” he murmurs.

She rolls her eyes. “Lock it behind you.”

After closing the door, she yells a, “Good night Mr. Holmes!” and continues to lock up the rest of the building.

X

The second time Irene meets her, she’s working the graveyard shift at the hospital.

This time, however, Sherlock isn’t hiding and spying on her. Instead, he’s blatantly following her around, absorbing every word she spews out about the corpse- John Whittaker, she gathers- down in the morgue.

Irene’s waiting patiently in the hallway for Jim when Molly erupts at him.

“Sherlock, the test results won’t be in for another week! Go home and rest, eat, solve another case, go bug John; just get out of my hair! You’re like a lost puppy, following me around the way you do!”

The whole morgue is staring at her by the time she finishes. She’s flushed and panting shallowly when she spins around to leave, pausing when she sees Irene leaning against the window.

“You heard the woman, Sherlock,” Irene says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

Molly looks immensely relieved as Sherlock quietly excuses himself out of the hospital.

“Waiting for Jim?” she asks after the commotion has died down some.

Irene nods. “He’s due here in five minutes. Said he couldn’t take the time to write out instructions to I.T.”

Molly smiles. “You’d think they’d put I.T. here instead of the morgue. I never quite got the set-up of the hospital, but it is what it is.”

A small, comfortable silence stretches between them before Irene gets the nerve to ask a question.

“Why the morgue?” she asks.

Molly looks confused. “Pardon?”

“Not that I mind, I mean- I just could picture you better in something like nursing or pediatrics.”

She sighs. “That old question. You know, my parents asked that exact same question when I told them.” As she talks, she lowers herself to the ground; Irene follows. “For one, dead people can’t talk; and two, it was the only available job offering for women. Did you know there’s only one female up in pediatrics?”

Irene smiles amusedly. “No, sweetie, I work for Jim.”

“Oh,” Molly flushes. “Sorry, I just-“ she wrings her hands, “-feel like I can trust you. Must have one of those faces, y’know?”

Jim is running late, as per usual lately, so Irene talks to Molly for the next half hour. She was learning things she was sure the girl hadn’t even told her own diary.

“So you wanted to be a professional piano player?” Irene asks as she lazily runs her hands through Molly’s hair. The girls are sprawled out along the empty corridor, lounging comfortably against each other.

“A bit stupid, now that I look back on it, to be honest. Haven’t played in years.”

Oddly enough, Irene could picture Molly at a piano, coaxing the beautiful music from each key.

“I’d love to hear you play,” she murmurs. “I could teach you to dance if you wanted.”

Molly looks mildly impressed. “You can dance? Oh, I bet I’ll be lousy, break all your toes.”

Irene giggles. “Then I’d be able to see you regularly, I see no down sides to this plan.”

Molly swats her arm. “Stop that, you’re making me blush.”

“You’re both making me blush,” a new voice chimes in.

Both girls swivel around to face Jim.

“Molly, did you know Irene wanted to be a lawyer?” Jim asks innocently.

Molly shrugs. “She’s certainly smart enough to be one.”

“Maybe in a different lifetime. Jim, you’re over half an hour late.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “Sorry, mother, I got caught up a little. I’m done now, though, so get up from your…” his eyes skim over the two girls, “…hair braiding session and come along.”

Irene sighs as she untangles herself from Molly.

“Swing by the office Tuesday after work if you want those dancing lessons,” Irene calls over her shoulder as she leaves.

X

The third time Irene sees her, they’re both in the produce section at the local supermarket.

“My goodness, Ms. Hooper, we’re just destined to cross paths.”

Molly looks up from where she had been picking through small cartons of raspberries.

“Irene!” she exclaims, running over after placing a random carton in her basket. “Goodness, how have you been?”

Irene loves how energetic and happy Molly always is. They had only seen each other three days ago at the dancing lessons, yet Molly acts like it’s been three months.

Honestly, Irene’s beginning to love a bit more than her positive demeanor.

“I’ve been quite busy, how about you?” she responds as she sorts through the kiwis.

“Positively mad. I’m going out of my mind no matter how hard John tries to keep Sherlock under control,” she seethes.

“You could always move in with me,” Irene jokes.

“Could I?” Molly asks desperately.

And honestly, why not? Irene had already decided earlier today that she either needed to pick up her job as a dominatrix again or get a flatmate, due to the pangs of loneliness she’d been feeling lately.

“Absolutely. Stop by with your stuff anytime. I’ll get an extra key from my landlord.”

Molly sighs as she leans in to hug Irene. As Irene hugs her back, Molly mutters, “What would I do without you?”

“Have a heart attack,” Irene mutters back. Molly laughs as she pulls away.

“I mean it, Irene,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

X

The fourth time Irene sees her, she’s walking into the restaurant gracefully. As soon as Molly sees her, she saunters over.

“Long time no see,” she greets as she leans down to kiss Irene’s cheek.

Irene blushes. “I know, twelve hours is simply too much.” She passes a menu to Molly. “You look stunning.”

She accepts the menu with a sheepish grin. “Thanks.”

“So, how was work?”

The rest of the date passes in a comfortable blur of laughter and light conversation. Somehow they both make it back to the shared flat in one piece.

“Hey, Molly?” Irene whispers.

“Yeah?”

They’re both curled up on the couch together, a mess of limbs and blankets as they cuddle.

Irene reaches one arm under the couch and pulls out a small blue box.

“Marry me,” she breathes.

Molly gasps and sits up in record timing. Irene follows, her eyes fixed on her the whole time.

“Irene!” she gasps, hands fixed over her heart. “Irene…” she repeats.

“Yes?” Irene prompts.

“We can’t,” Molly finishes lamely. “Not legal, remember? Barely 1950, here….”

“We can run away,” Irene pleads. “Please, Molly, I’ll never love another like I love you.”

Molly twines their hands together, carefully running her thumb over Irene’s veins. It feels like centuries before she finally replies.

“Of course,” she whispers, running her free hand over Irene’s face. “I could never leave you.”

Joy immediately flows through Irene as she leans in to kiss her fiancée.

“I love you,” she whispers as they break apart.

“I love you too,” Molly whispers back.

X

The fifth time she sees her, they’re cuddling in their new house together.

“That was quite the service,” Irene murmurs into the collarbone of her wife.

“I’m aware,” Molly breathes back.

Irene kisses the top of her head. “Sure you’ll be okay here?”

Molly nods sluggishly. “I’ll always be okay wherever you are.”

They’d never been happier.


End file.
